This is Alan Turing.
Many of you don’t know him, but he’s a man you should be plenty thankful for.
He invented the computer, but he was also a homosexual.
In Alan’s time, being gay was illegal. Several tragedies went on around him, and Alan was not a very happy person.
At one point he had a sexual encounter with a man. The same man came to his house a while later and tried stealing his objects. When Alan called the police he had to admit to his sexual encounter.
The government said that he had participated in ‘gross indecency’ and as punishment he was put through chemical castration.
Two years later he killed himself, at the young age of 41.
To this day, Alan’s record is smudged by the court’s actions. You and I know there is nothing wrong with what he did. What can we do to stop it?
Please, if you are a UK Resident or British Citizen, sign this petition.
Even if you aren’t, pass it along. We can make a difference in unjust actions done to the father of modern technology.
majestictragesty-of-the-embrace:
i’m glad i’m not the only one who keeps reblogging
#I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS #I DID MY WAITING#12 YEARS OF IT #IN AZKABAN
Best. Manip. Ever.
I went to the wood because I wanted to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life! Yo put to rout all that was not life. And not, when I came to die, discove that I had not lived.
Damn it, Neil. The name is Nuwanda!
” O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, Walt Whitman
The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,
The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,
While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;
But O heart! heart! heart!
O the bleeding drops of red,
Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.
O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up — for you the flag is flung — for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths — for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.
My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,
My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will,
The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,
From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;
Exult O shores, and ring O bells!
But I with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.”
LIFE, LOVE, STRESS, & SETBACKS: A madman, A crazy mad man.A sweaty toothed mad man.I close my eyes... →
A madman, A crazy mad man.
A sweaty toothed mad man.
I close my eyes and an image floats beside me.
A sweaty toothed madman with a stare that pounds my brain.
His hands reach out and choke me. And all the time hes mumbling. mumbling truth.
truth like a blanket that always leaves your feet…
“It’s not the Bible, you’re not going to hell for this.”
- Keating on ripping out the introduction pages of a poetry textbook
I stand upon my desk to remind myself that we must constantly look at things in a different way.Dead Poets Society (1989) Peter Weir
